The Quiet Room
The Coffin Door

5. The Warm Body

August 25, 2026 · Part 5 of 10 · 2 min

The church is full by nine-thirty — coworkers from the restaurant, neighbors, my dad's old college roommate who flew in from three states away. I'm livestreaming for my aunt in Manila who couldn't get a flight in time, propping my phone against a hymnal on the pew in front of me, because that's the kind of thing you do now, the kind of thing that would've mortified me a week ago and feels like nothing at all today.

The casket sits at the front, closed, blanketed in white lilies. I haven't stopped thinking about the lab report folded in my jeans pocket since 6 a.m.

During the final viewing before the procession to the cemetery, I corner the funeral director in the vestibule — a soft-spoken man named Mr. Delacroix who's been avoiding my eyes since I set foot in the building this morning.

"Something's wrong," I say. "You know it too. I can see it on you."

He hesitates, glancing over my shoulder for Roman, then leans in and speaks so quietly I almost lose it under the organ music starting up inside.

"When we received the body Tuesday night," he says, "for preparation — the embalming process — the... the temperature wasn't what we'd expect. For the timeline we were given."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he was warm, Micah. Warmer than a body should be, six, seven hours after time of death. I flagged it. I called the hospital twice. Nobody called back." He swallows. "I should have refused the embalming until someone answered me. I didn't. Your uncle was very insistent about the timeline, and I — I needed the contract."

The organ swells. Someone calls my name from the church doors — it's starting, they need me inside, the pallbearers are lining up.

"Did you embalm him?" I ask, and my own voice sounds like it's coming from somewhere far away. "Did you actually go through with it?"

Mr. Delacroix's face goes the color of the lilies.

"No," he says. "Your uncle stopped me at the last second. Said there wasn't time before the service. Micah — that casket in there right now has never been embalmed at all."

Continue the story Part 6: 6. The Screwdriver →

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